Apotheosis
by JarlOfWhiterun
Summary: We were made to dominate. The will to power is in our blood. You feel it in yourself, do you not? -Paarthurnax. Five years after the events of Skyrim, the Dragonborn is summoned to Windhelm along with many others by the king himself. When it becomes evident that the Thalmor intend to make war on men, only the dragonborn can hope to save Tamriel, yet again. Reviews would be amazing!
1. Chapter 1 The Summoning

Chapter I

The Summoning

The war was over. Tullius himself was executed. What more could be done for the cause? As the Dragonborn pondered this, Bjorlam drove the carriage ever onward, past the peaks and valleys and into Eastmarch. Skyrim was recovering beautifully since Ulfric took charge. The economy was booming as more and more became employed under the Stormcloak banner. Galmar Stone-Fist had a throng of recruits at his personal training center, the newly rebuilt Fort Amol. The Dragonborn continued to wonder about his summons. What could Ulfric possibly need him for? The Empire had been driven back down to Cyrodiil, and peace had been in the land for five years.

"Almost there my friend," announced Bjorlam snapping the Dragonborn's attention away from his thoughts. As the snow fell upon the crags, Soloman began to spy the great City of Kings, Windhelm. He had lived in the city for four years, until he finished his homestead on the shores of Lake Illinalta. He figured his kids would be better growing up at the lake house rather than the city, as theft was common in the slums that was known as the Grey Quarter.

"Ah, thank you Bjorlam you are a good man. Here's fifty septims." replied the Dovahkiin, pressing the coinpurse into the carriage drivers palm.

"But the fare from Whiterun is only twenty gold. You are too generous, I cannot accept this charity." Bjorlam didn't think he could remember the last time someone payed him fifty gold instead of the usual twenty.

"But you will, my friend, you have borne me many times on my journeys, always safely and hastily. Please accept this as a ...eh a tip," replied Soloman closing his loyal driver's hand on the gold.

Bjorlam thought for a moment about it. He had a wife, kids to feed. Surely they needed this. 'You are a good man, Soloman, may you die with a sword in your hands."And with that the Dovahkiin hopped down from the carriage and began to traverse the lengthy bridge to the capital of the Nordic people. Now all he had left to do was wonder why his King summoned him.

"Stormblade. It's an honor," greeted Rolff Stone-Fist, clutching his right hand over his heart. Rolff was the newly appointed Captain of the Bridge, an honor not commonly given to whelps. He had enlisted with the army two years after the war ended, as he would not fight the civil war at the age of sixteen. His father, Galmar Stone-Fist, wouldn't allow his only son to be killed for the cause until he came of age.

"By Talos do you have any idea why I was summoned." Soloman desperately hoped he knew, for the question was burning in the back of his skull, waiting to be extinguished with an answer.

"No sir. But I have noticed an awful lot of the old war heroes have been arriving here in the past few days. Soloman whatever is going on it's something big. I'd expect you should be heading towards the palace, and quickly too because this seems like a war is on the horizon."

"Talos guide you Rolff," Soloman pushed the massive doors open and headed into the city.

"Soloman, what a pleasure it is to see you. I expect you remember me after two long years of not living in this city," called Captain Lonely-Gale. Damn he'd changed, he was in the wee years of his silver years. His new job has taken its toll on the man, but when you're the Admiral of the Navy of Skyrim that tends to happen.'I expect you are here for the Council of Captains."

That was the reason of his summoning: Lord Ulfric needed counsel. It made sense to summon all of his Captains to assist him in a matter. "Captain. I mean Admiral. Please escort me to the Palace of the Kings."

"As you wish Dovahkiin. But please, call me Captain, for I claim to miss that title very much." Captain Lonely-Gale then walked with the Dragonborn past Candlehearth Hall, and into the courtyard of Lord Ulfric's castle.

"Halt! in the name of the King. Only those on the list of Captains and the Wise may enter. Speak your purpose or begone!" cried the Captain of the gate.

"I am Soloman Stormblade, and this is the Admiral of the Navy, Captain Lonely-Gale. We are some of the most high ranking officers in the military. If you refuse to let us in I will kill you where you stand. I do not wish to harm a lietenant of my lord, for that would be treason against my country. You need only to admit us to our summoning, lest you wish to die." The guard saw in Soloman now what he hadn't before: the fire of the Kings of Old, and he was in awe, yet afraid at the same time.

"Let them pass. They're on the list." The guards then opened the doors and sent one forth to guide the Dragonborn to his King.


	2. Chapter 2 The Hope of Men

Chapter II

The Hope of Men

"Ah Stormblade, you have made it," said Ulfric as he looked up to the creaking sound of the massive palace door opening. Soloman looked around the crowded room, up at the banners that donned the walls, all bearing the emblem of the Bear. "Come quickly I wish to speak with you."

Soloman shuffled through the crowd of various nobles and captains until he reached the war room, whose attendance paled in comparison to the amount gathered in the great hall. "Lord Ulfric, you seek my counsel?" asked Soloman, gazing at Ulfric. He was tall for a Nord, easily six feet. The man's hair was flaked with touches of silver in what was of old a ruddy blondish. His axe hung at his side, reminding the Dragonborn of when he himself carried that axe to Jarl Balgruuf of Whiterun five long years ago.A folly it was to even bother trying for a peaceful solution, but it had to be done. Balgruuf was allowed to stay in Whiterun after the war, as Vignar Gray-Mane realized that running a hold was far more difficult than it seems. Plus Soloman was a good friend of Jarl Balgruuf and asked High King Ulfric to let him retake his throne, seeing as he was descended from former king Olaf One-Eye, Ulfric complied.

"Yes my good man. You see my captains have all gathered here so you can tell it's a military meeting," responded the king, waving his hand towards his many generals and captains.

So it would seem. That doesn't explain the nobles however; I'm guessing they're here to make sure their interests are respected," answered Soloman, gazing at the various nobles in the court; none of the nobles looked as kingly as he.

"You are correct, in a is both a political and military meeting. A problem has arisen and it needs to be taken care of and fast, as we do not need to be destroyed."

"What in Talos name are you talking about my lord?" Soloman was puzzled; he was used to getting asked to do favors for the assorted citizens of his country, but only when he faced off against the World-Eater was he in worry of being destroyed.

Ulfric fell silent for a moment, collecting his gazed at the map of his kingdom, his eyes darting from city to city, village to village, and keep to keep. At last he spoke, his great voice in a questioning tone,"Soloman have you ever heard of the Skyrim Conquests?"

The Skyrim Conquests? What did that have to do with anything? It was ages ago, it shouldn't matter now in the fourth era. But then again, the dragons were from the dawn of time and just look at how much damage and destruction they brought."Yes I have, but what does it have to do with our meeting?'

"Everything. You see, Skyrim formed the First Empire long ago by conquering most of High Rock, Hammerfell, Morrowind, and Cyrodiil. Nords founded most of the cities of the north, but now milk drinkers govern them. Hammerfell and Skyrim are on good terms for the moment, as they helped fund the rebellion. Hammerfell has agreed that if either of our country is invaded by those knife-eared bastards we will drive them back to hell. They did it once before after the Great War, after the Empire bended its knee to the elves. If the Redguards can do it, so can we. But the cissy Bretons have offered little assistance to our cause, though the city of Jehanna is full of nords who want to once again be a part of something better than the Empire. We have the strength in men to take it. There are other factions wishing to ally themselves with the motherland besides Hammerfell: The great House Redoran from Morrowind backs you Soloman and wherever your loyalties lie. You made quite the impression on them from your time in Solstheim. Another Great House has agreed to be an ally of yours as well, House Telvanni. Neloth has convinced them of your greatness and they follow your banner. It's a shame they number so little since Red Mountain and the Argonian Invasion. Morrowind has not forgotten the compassion we showed them after Red Mountain. Perhaps we shall help them take back their homeland after the war."

"The War?' asked Soloman, evidently confused about his statement.

"Yes the war lad. That's what we're talking about. Those aren't our only allies though. The countess of Bruma, Fjori the Fair, has written us letters supporting _us_ over the petty Empire. I don't see how those damn imperials don't envy us. Jehanna and Bruma support us. Bruma will be our gateway to Cyrodiil. But if we could convince the rest of High Rock to come under the Stormcloak banner, we could unite the nations of men to withstand the tide of war that is to come."

Soloman thought for a moment, wondering what would destroy them."What's the danger to destroy us then, if everyone is our allies?"

Ulfric handed him a parcel."We intercepted this off of a runner near Bruma. Read it for yourself Stormblade you'll see." Soloman then took the parcel in his hand, and opened it. A letter fell out, which read

 _DearGeneral Tacitus,_

 _We understand that the Nords are peaceful at the moment; everything is calm._

 _We would most advise you to prepare your men for an assault into Skyrim, starting in the_

 _Pale Pass, and continuing up through Falkreath and up towards taking_

 _Helgen, you are to divert a portion of your troops to march East through the pass towards_

 _Riften, and from there towards the head of the Stormcloak beast. Your force that takes Whiterun_

 _shall divide and go west and north, taking Markarth in the west and linking up with reinforcements_

 _from our naval attack at the coast from the port of Dawnstar. I wish this advice to be heeded fairly soon._

 _Do not fail me._

 _First Emmisary in Cyrodiil,_

 _Silvinir_

"By talos the damn elves are planning an invasion! We must act quickly Ulfric before it is too must warn the other holds and nations. What about our agreement with Hammerfell?They'll come to our aid. Right? Damn Thalmor! May they rot in Oblivion for this."

"The day might not be far that the fate of men will be decided on the field of battle. And it shall be Skyrim that leads the last march of men." Ulfric's voice was booming with pride of his nation, after all he was the king."I've prepared the defense of Falkreath, it now has a wall and its soldiers have been doubled. Helgen has been rebuilt and will serve as Skyrim's military college, for Galmar has been getting cramped in Fort Amol. Theredguards will send aid if Falkreath calls for it, for they have a city just across the border. I've prepared runners for the occasion. Dawnstar is in need of of a naval station, and I have ordered it to be built and with haste. There's not much in Winterhold anymore, even after it's expansion. I've contacted the Archmage, a wise fellow named Drelas and left him in charge of the hold's defense, much to Korir's dismay. Solitude is naturally defensible, remember how hard it was to take."

Soloman was reminded of the long bloody battle that took nearly two days to end, as the last legions of General Tullius's host were gathered in the arched city. He remembered the blood splatters and flames, the smell of singed and bleeding flesh, the sound of swords piercing through brothers as they fought to the death. Those thoughts still sent chills down the spine of the hardened warrior.

"So the province is safe then?" asked Soloman, still in shock of the rememberance of the horrible battle.

"It's as safe as we can hope for it to be against the Thalmor. I have a special task for you, Soloman. I am aware that you happen to have been born in the city of Daggerfall to a Nordic noble. I ask you to return there to seek aid from the Bretons in the coming war. I wish to see all of Tamriel under the Stormcloak banner someday."

"Why not send Jorleif? He's a far better diplomat than I."

"Jorleif does not have connections to the noble families of High Rock as you do. He also cannot hope to be a better diplomat than you, even if he happens to be the steward of the king of Skyrim. Do not put yourself down so, Jorleif could never have convinced me to allow Balgruuf to stay Jarl after defying me. You are humble but you are the man for this job. Besides, I need Jorleif. I do have a country to take care of after all."

Soloman agreed and then thought of his past. He remembered his father leaving to go fight in the war, but never returned. He later learned that he died after commanding a small cohort within the Eighth Legion's doomed defense of the walls of the Imperial City after Titus Mede II decided to abandon the capitol. He remembered signing up in the Legion shortly after, and quickly getting promoted to Legate after his assistance in several skirmishes in the highlands near Chorrol. He then remembered his mother getting rockjoint unknowingly and dying in the manor he grew up in right before the turn of the century. he then disbanded the legion and fled Daggerfall, eventually being caught in Skyrim. He really dreaded having to go back home.


	3. Chapter 3 Lost Legends

Chapter III

Lost Legends

Soloman left the War Room, his head throbbing from his intense headache. Gods the past seemed to come back to haunt him. He needed a drink. The Dragonborn excused himself from the court and pushed open the large doors of the palace. he was immediately hit with a blast of cold that reached into the depths of his very soul. Snowiest city in Skyrim really was an understatement he thought as he cossed the courtyard, noticing two plaques on the wall that stood out to Soloman more than the other.

 _HARALD_

 _REIGNED 1E 143 - 221_

 _13th in the line of Ysgramor and_

 _founder of the great Kingdom of_

 _Skyrim, where he established fair_

 _Windhelm as his capital._

Ysgramor. The legendary founder of the Companions and the first king of Skyrim. Soloman remembered visiting the tomb of the great Atmoran leader with his fellow Companions, Farkas, Vilkas, and the fair Aela the Huntress. Ysgramor had helped the last Dragonborn in his journey through Sovngarde, the afterlive of all true nords. Soloman wished to again speak with Ysgramor, as he had questions to ask the man one harbinger to another. Ysgramor was partly the cause of the reason he had to go back to Daggerfall, though but Soloman did not hate him for it. He started the Skyrim Conquests ages ago, when he lead the legendary Five Hundred to Skyrim and caused the snow elf diaspora. Soloman hoped to meet hm again on the eventual day he will ascend to Sovngarde. Soloman then turned to the left and went down the alley towards his Windhelm manor, Hjerim.

"I trust you're not planning any trouble. What can I do for you, friend?' called his housecarl Calder from within the kitchen. He turned and saw his Thane and smiled,"Soloman. You're home at last! I've been keeping the place homely ere you return. As you did come back, I will prepare a feast fit for the kings you are descended from."

" I've heard enough about my lineage for one night Calder. Please, just give me an ale or some mead." Soloman was exhausted from his days of travel and his last few hours at the Palace of the Kings. He needed to get relaxed and then get some rest. but his mind was currently fixated on Ysgramor so he walked upstairs into his armory and opened the first display case on the right. Wuuthrad. The axe of the first Nordic historian and king. It's dark colour was fascinating to the Dovahkiin. He wondered how someone, even as mighty as Ysgramor, could cry tears of pure ebony. It's name described that, as it was known as "Storm's Tears" in the tongue of Atmora. Soloman had wielded the legendary hero's axe when he cleansed Kodlak Whitemane's spirit in the tomb. Soloman also possesed the Shield of Ysgramor, but it was at his house in Raven Rock, Severin Manor.

"Where are you, my Thane? I wish to give you the drink you requested." said Calder as he paced into the dining room with a bottle of Honningbrew Mead. Soloman shut the case and made his way towards the Nord, his thoughts forgotten as he grew ever thirsty for the alcohol.

"Ah thank you friend. I love Honningbrew, Calder nice choice. Please get out two tankards." Soloman asked the brunette while motioning to the cupboard.

"Two Tamkards? But why two, seeing as you have no company?" asked Calder wondering if his thane was losing his sanity.

"You're wrong Calder. I do have company, as I am in the company of a loyal friend who I want to have a drink with. Come, sit beside me. Don't worry I won't bite ya." Calder sat beside the buff nord, noticing how his hair was ever so slowly changing colours since the two first met following the battle for Fort Greenwall. Soloman was a war hero to the citizens of Windhelm. What's more is he was a hero to life itself, seeing as how he killed the God of destruction. When the two first met, his hair was the colour of melted gold. Now, it seemed his hair was still golden, but littered with specks of grey here and there.

"My thane, I've always wanted to ask you what your age is." The question had been bugging the man since he met the great hero of Skyrim. He appeared to be no more than fifty, but no less than forty.

Soloman hesitated for a brief, yet noticable moment. "Calder I was fourteen when I lost my father in the Sack of the Imperial City. When I had seen fifteen winters, I joined the Imperial Legion, as you can tell I did by my armour upstairs. Not long after my joining I fought under General Jonna in the Battle of the Red Ring. I came to Skyrim at the age of forty-one, after many adventures elsewhere. That was five years ago. So to answer your question I am forty-six years of age. Do not worry, my friend, I do not die at the same age as mortal men do, however. I have the soul of a dragon, and the dragons ride the currents of time until they are killed. I will see many lives of men during my time on Nirn unless I am defeated."

Calder thought that he was a cub compared to this great man. He was had seen his fair share of winters at thirty-one, but he did not expect Soloman to outlast the men of this age by so much, even if he was the Dragonborn. "May I ask you another question, Soloman?"

"Yes Calder, you may." Solomaan hoped it wasn't about his past, as he dreaded to think about his life before Skyrim. But he was pretty sure he would ask about it, so he braced himself for the tide of emotions that was soon to wash over him.

It never came. He simply asked him, "Why are you in Windhelm, my thane. Are you thinking of moving back in. It's awful lonesome in this house without you here."

"Oh Calder no I'm not here to move back in sadly. As much as I love this city I'm not moving back at the moment. but to answer your other question of why I'm in Windhelm, I'm here on Stormcloak business. There's a great council being held in the palace tomorrow and I was summoned to it by the king. I came here at this hour to come home, get a drink, and rest before the big day tomorrow. If I may share a bit of a secret with you, as I know you hate being lonely when I'm gone, I'd like you to come with me in a few weeks to my homeland of High Rock."

Calder was shocked. He had no clue on why Stormblade would be traveling to High Rock. He certainly had no idea of why he would take him. He could take care of himself, he didn't need a bodyguard. Pity was the most logical answer as he had told him of his lonliness. Calder never even knew he was from High Rock."I'd be honored to be your companion, Soloman. I'll make all the preperations."

"Good, lad. I needed a friend to go on this journey home with me, as Aela gets boring after five years. Plus your wife can't have a pint like your friend, eh? I'm going to bed, friend. Send word to Aela in Jorrvaskr in the morning. She tends to stay at her old home whenever I'm traveling. Goodnight Calder."

Soloman climbed the stairs, went through the armory and down the hall, and finally turned left and entered his spacious master bedroom. He climbed into the bed and quickly went to sleep.

 _Soloman looked up and saw the vibrant colours of Aetherius. He stumbled around, gazing into the circles of mists surrounding him. The land seemed strangely familiar to the man, almost as if he had been there climbed to the crest of the nearest hill, and looked down upon the valley below. The land was dotted with statues of a hooded figure, all leading a path towards a great hall of men, where glimpses of feasts could be seen through the massive windows. Streams rushed down towards the hall, which was above an abyss with unfathomable depths. The auroras illuminated the valley along with the view of the heavens, making the world seem like a beacon of light in the surrounding dark. He heard a distant chanting of strong Nordic voices and he smelled the scent of an oxe roasting in the hall. Soloman was drawn into the valley, following the chanting and the scent. The chanting consistently got louder as he neared the hall, he began to realize it was in the tongue of dragons. He walked towards the hall, before being stopped by a giant of a man at the base of a collossal bridge made of the bones of a large beast."We meet again friend." said the man as he waved his hand towards the bridge. Soloman was going ever closer to the house, he could make out the faces of fallen comrades and heroes of old. He got to the hall and everyone inside turned and faced him. They all knelt and bowed before him, and greeted him as an old friend._

 _He was pulled aside from his merry-making by Ysgramor who turned to him and said,"Soloman. You need to listen to me. My blood is in your veins. You are the only one who can rule the Empire of men that is to come.A Dragonborn must sit on the Ruby Throne, even if the dragonfires are no longer needed, it is the will of the Gods. Only you can unite the forces of men and defeat the elves. Go now." And before he could question the old king he was awakened by the sound of someone knocking on the door._


	4. Chapter 4 In Good Time

**Sorry for the delay! I had a celebration with some friends for the 4th, and it lasted a bit longer then planned. I'm back to my duty of writing now so enjoy the chapter if you will.**

Chapter IV

In Good Time

"Calder get the door!" shouted Soloman as he fumbled with his robes, hastily getting dressed to greet the unknown visitor. he looked up, noticing streams of light darting into his chambers, noticing he'd overslept. He was anxious to know why someone would dare bother him at this hour, as he could tell it was no later then half past nine.

"Soloman, a man sent by the king is here to see you. He asks that you make haste to see him soon." called Calder from downstairs. Damn the Council was to meet today! Soloman couldn't believe he'd forgotten, the dream had really shaken his thoughts. He'd have to go see Paarthurnax as soon as was possible, seeing as the dream was so vivid, and Ysgramor himself told him he'd be the only one who could lead the Empire of men. Soloman did not realize it whilst he was in the dream, but he now knew he had traversed into Sovngarde by way of dream, and he knew in his soul that it meant something.

Soloman, now dressed, left his room and went downstairs, noticing a blonde man at his table, eating as if it were a banquet in his honor. "Ah, he lives! You're finally awake, my friend. I have wished to converse with you ere you arrived in Windhelm yesterday," said the man, not looking up. Soloman wondered who the man could be, and how he knew of his arrival in the city. He was obviously a soldier, that much was apparent by his armour. His voice was familiar too, Soloman felt he knew the man.

"Who are you, friend. I'd like to know the name of the man who comes into my house and asks for counsel before it is given." said Soloman, his great voice with a tone of wonder. He expected the man to introduce himself or to at least bow to the him.

He did neither. he simply stated," I believe we've already met." And with that he looked up at his host and Soloman saw the face of a man he happened to remember quite well. It was a Captain in the Stormcloak army, and it was also his first friend after he arrived in this bitter land of cold and dragons.

"Ralof..." He now knew who had arrived and wished counsel, but he didn't know why he should want it. " My friend why do you seek counsel friend? Is something wrong with the army? Does Ulfric need to be aware of something lad?"

"No. It's nothing like that. It happens to be a bit more of a personal matter that I wish to discuss with my old friend. I have often confided in you for matters relating to the war or the dragons, but this is something different, but it might relate to it. I do not know at the moment though."

Ralof had changed since the war. The man was now more thoughtful and wise. He had become a great leader in the army, leading the Sons of Skyrim to victory time and time again. He didn't win the battles by his strength as a warrior, but on his strategy and wits. The man was a fine warrior, but he was an even better tacticion and strategist. When the two had first met, he would charge headfirst into battle without a thought for himself or others. But all of that had changed since he led the attack on Fort Neugrad and watched several of his brothers and sisters in arms die at the hands of the Imperials because of his foolhardy plan.

"What is it, my friend? You can tell me anything, you know that right. Now spit it out lad, I grow tired of wondering what it is that is troubling you."

" The other night, I was walking home from my trip to the Honningbrew Meadery to pick up some ale, you know how much Hod likes to drink. Well the weird part is I looked upon the mountain on the way back, and I heard a whisper on the wind crying ' Ralof... Listen to me... War is coming, and you shall play a major role in the fate of the world. Visit us only when you have spoken with Dragonbane about the Throne of Men. You will find him in the City of Snow ere the moons wane.' I assumed you are Dragonbane, seeing as you can permanently kill a dragon by absorbing its very soul. The City of Snow is obviously Windhelm. Now all I have to do before I solve this mystery is ask you about the Throne of Men."

Soloman now wondered who had spoken to Ralof. He assumed the Greybeards had, seeing as the voice had come from the Throat of the World. The Greybeards often didn't meddle in the affairs of kings and thrones however. They surely did not care for war, that much is certain. " Ralof... I happen to be traveling to High Hrothgar after the Council anyways, and I think you should accompany me there. I have had a similar experience, though I shall not recount it at this time. If you wish to travel with me I shall explain it on the road."

Ralof paused for a moment, his facial expression revealed he was deeply involved in the affairs of his thoughts."Soloman, if I may ask, why are you going to High Hrothgar after the Council?" Ralof suspected Soloman knew something about his experience that he didn't. He was anxious to get to the bottom of the whole situation, as it was mind boggling to him. Who had whispered to him? What did it mean? He was sure that Soloman knew what it meant, so he was intent on going to meet the Greybeards just so he could find out what they and the Dragonborn knew that he didn't.

"Ralof, my good friend, I wish to have an audience with the Greybeards and their leader, Paarthurnax. When I speak to the leader of their Order, I do not think the Greybeards will permit you to come with me, as they love their master deeply and care about his safety and privacy more than you can imagine. I believe the Greybeards have summoned you to high Hrothgar, and I believe I was also meant to traverse the seven thousand steps alongside you. Our paths are intertwined in this mess and we need to know whatever wisdom Arngeir and the rest of the Order have to offer. Speaking of wisdom, I do not advise you to tell anyone at all about your experience, save me and the Greybeards. There are those that would kill you if they knew you were involved in a great war that is to come. You have to trust me friend, as I am withholding information to save both of our heads. I can see the lack of an answer to this is frustrating you, but do not fret. I will reveal all I know regarding the matter in good time. For now we have bigger matters to tend to, I'm afraid. The Council meets in an hour, and I trust Ulfric sent you here early because he wished to have counsel with me before the meeting?"

"Aye. He beckoned me to make haste to arouse you so that he could speak to you as soon as possible. He greatly desires to speak with you, as do I. But like you said, I have to trust you will reveal the answer to our problem in good time. But I do wonder about the war part, and if it is related to this gathering?"

"That, my friend, will be revealed when we get to the palace," laughed the Dragonborn, opening his front door and stepping into the great cold that was common in the great city of men, Windhelm. The sun was nearly at its climax, as the tall blonde Nord walked alongside his longhaired friend on the street, going past the various manors and houses until he got to the boneyard, where he paused to pay his respects to his fellow Stormcloaks, saying the simple yet meaningful phrase as he walked away towards the Palace of the Kings, "Talos guide you."


	5. Chapter 5 Many Meetings

Chapter V

Many Meetings

The howling of the icy wind filled Soloman's ears as he walked away from the graveyard and into the main plaza of the bustling city. He walked up to the local inn, known as Candlehearth Hall, and turned around, noticing a plaque on the wall that failed to be seen at the palace.

 _WULFHARTH_

 _OF ATMORA_

 _REIGNED 1E 480 - 533_

 _Ysmir, Shor's Tongue, Dragon of the_

 _North and noble champion who_

 _defeated the Direnni and cleaned_

 _Skyrim of the Alessian heresy._

Wulfharth, the legendary Tongue and King, and ally of the great Tiber Septim. He had helped young Talos in taking over the various regions of Tamriel, from High Rock to Cyrodiil, Hammerfell to Valenwood, and Elsweyr to Skyrim. He did not, however, agree with the Armistice with the Tribunal of Morrowind, as they had abused the power of the heart of Shor. Wulfharth was then betrayed by his former ally, and both he and the Imperial Battlemage, Zurin Arctus, were killed. Tiber Septim then used the power of Wulfharth to power Numiium, and conquer Summerset Isle, thus ended the conquest of Tamriel. Wulfharth had a very unique ability, being a shezzarine as he was; he was never truly dead. He was rezzurected many times, as he could be reincarnated because he was the very aspect of Shor himself! Thus Wulfharth was a part of many events even after his death, like the founding of the Septim Dynasty of it weren't for Wulfharth, Tiber could have never conquered all of Tamriel, thus Talos would've never became a god.

Soloman wished he'd been alive in the ages of Wulfharth, for he had the urge to speak with the Tongue, seeing how neither he nor Shor was in Sovngarde whenever the Dovahkiin pushed the thoughts of the former king aside as he turned and walked alongside Ralof in the direction of the Palace, stopping at the gates of the courtyard, anticipating the guards to stop them.

A new Captain was at the gate today, it was not the rude captain who thought it was wise to question the new captain was a stocky Breton, who had a long white scar running down the length of his otherwise fair face. He motioned to the two Nords, his long silver hair falling to his shoulders as he did. Ralof approached the man, so Soloman followed. He was intrigued as to what happened to the former Captain, and why this Breton was now in charge. Ralof looked back at Soloman, and his expression told Soloman that this man was a friend of ralof's, and that he could be trusted.

"Captain Aslman, at your service," the elderly guard bowed low to welcome the coming of the legendary Dragonborn. "I have long awaited your arrival to the Palace, for Lord Ulfric feared the worst whenever Captain Ralof and yourself failed to arrive before noon. Seeing how you are among his most trusted advisors, and how it is only a quarter til one o'cloack, I'm guessing he postponed the Council until your arrival. I would make haste, if I were you; for it would not do well to linger by the gate whenever his lordship is awaiting you."

Soloman nodded at the old man, opening the collosal gate as he did. He was met with the falling of countless eyes upon him. He had clearly interrupted lunch, for the various generals and nobles alike were dining on some of the best delicasies to be found around the snowy kingdom known as Skyrim."Sorry I am late, milord," Soloman's voice echoed off of the walls of the massive hall. "I was too busy catching up with a dear friend."

"Ah that explains it," replied Ulfric, chuckling,"Jorleif was right in saying'Do not send Ralof. He will delay Soloman for hours by the two friends chatting away about Talos knows what' Hahahaha, I should trust my Steward more often. Sit, friends, for luck has found you, as we have only just begun the feasting!"

And with that, Ralof and Soloman took their seats, and began to dig into the magnificent food prepared for the occasion. Soloman sat beside Ralof and a tall man, who appeared to be quite elderly."Soloman, at your service," said the Nord.

"Aspius, at your's. If I may ask, are you the Soloman who defeated the World-Eater in the blessed realm of Shor?"

"Aye, I am. It was not my deed alone, however. The brave souls of three valiant ancient nordic heroes were of aid in the battle."

"It is still a mighty deed, milord. Mightier than any deed I have done in my long life. I'm a Breton, but also a Wizard, see, and I have news from Camlorn to discuss with the King."

"I'm from Daggerfall myself, so I would like to hear everything there is to know about the going ons in my homeland." Then Aspius bagan to tell Soloman all of the recent events that happened in the region, from the affairs of the various nobles, to the whinings of every last child. Soloman learned that Daggerfall's King, Edward the Elder, was getting, well elderly. He had two sons; Prince Ilseth was the bastard son of a drunk night with a Dunmeri barmaid, while his heir and eldest son, Thengel, was a strong supporter of all who oppose the Thalmor, which included Skyrim. Aspius then told him that he was a wanderer, and would often go on quests with many warriors and mages alike. He was regarded among the Wise, and was on good terms with the Archmage in Winterhold.

His most recent of quests, was to attend the Council of Lord Ulfric, and gain any information that he could regarding the political interests of Skyrim, and their thought on the pressing matter of the Dominion. The Queen of the great city of Camlorn, Astarius, is regarded as a great ruler for all who oppose the Thalmor, and as such she is a dear friend of Prince Thengel.

Soloman was a good listener, not once did he show any signs of boredom or any intent of changing the subject. He greatly missed his homeland, and was happy to hear news from it. He vaguely remembered the crowning of King Edward when he was a wee lad, for his father was a noble and a loyal friend to the Royal Family. He desired to visit his country again with part of his heart, but the other never wished to step a foot on Breton soil again. He realized over the last five years that Daggerfall was no longer his home; the site had changed to the tundras and forests of Skyrim, with her tall peaks and beautiful cities. He was born a Nord, and he loved Skyrim more than anything else.

Aspius then asked about the affairs of Skyrim, and what all had happened since he last ventured here nigh on a year and a half ago. Soloman then told him everything there was to know, with Ralof pitching in to correct or help him, from the assasination of the entire royal family of Riften and the ascendence of Mjoll the Lioness as Jarl, to the rebuilding of the great fortress of Blackmoor in the mountains north of Whiterun. Blackmoor was built as a refuge for when the city is attacked, for it is a grand keep built into the walls of the mountains, and is therefore regarded as being very defensible. A great Chieftain known as Horknar Heavyhanded was appointed by Jarl Balgruuf the Greater to garrison the then wanted further explanation on the assasination of Jarl Laila Law-Giver and her family. Soloman explained that it was an Imperial plot meant to weaken Skyrim and put Maven Black-Briar on the throne, but the people voted for the new Jarl to be the 'Protector of Riften', Mjoll, to be Jarl instead.

He then mentioned the founding of Skyrim Military College in Helgen, and the building of a new town outside of Fort Dunstad and the rebuilding of the fort. Many of the old forts were being rebuilt and towns were growing up around them, like the city of Snowhawk at Fort Snowhawk. The Village of Heljarchen Creek had been rebuilt around Nightgate Inn on Lake Yorgrim, just like several cities, such as Winterhol, had been rebuilt. Winterhold was still a shadow of its former self, but it now had a sizable population comparable to Morthal. Several cities had been expanded, like Whiterun, for Skyrim was peaceful and prosperous.

Aspius then said he learned a lot over the last two hours of talking with him and he desired to have counsel with him some more, and he would request to accompany him if ever he should return to Daggerfall. Soloman then told the wizard that he had, in fact, planned a journey to High rock in the next couple of weeks if the gods permitted. He then asked Aspius to accompany him along the way, for he dared not tread those paths for many a year, and he greatly desired a guide.

Soloman then began to sing a tune he learned i his boyhood:

 _In Daggerfall, the great city,_  
 _I spared the orcs no great pity,_  
 _We made battle all through the night_  
 _And it began to look as if the orcs would win the fight_  
 _But with dawn came the first light,_  
 _which gave the orcs a great fright,_  
 _We fought for what was right,_  
 _And that is why we won the fight._

Soloman then bowed and stated, "This was the recount of an ancient war fought between the Nords when they first founded Daggerfall and the warriors of an Orcish army led by Malacath himself. It is now known as the Nord-Orc War. Not the best tune, but it was on my mind at the moment, perhaps in response to thoughts of my childhood in a noble family in Daggerfall."

Jorleif suddenly stood up and cried, "All rise to attention! Lord Ulfric requests that you finish your meals and join him in the Council, for the hour is among us where we shall convene a moot to determine the fate of the world!" Jorleif sat down, and soon the Hall was alive with servants coming in to collect the dishes of the many lords and ladies arranged in the Court of Lord Ulfric. The Council was about to begin.


	6. Chapter 6 The Council of Captains

Chapter VI

The Council of Captains

Soloman stood up, and walked towards the war room, where many of his peers were already gathered. Soloman wondered how the war room could be room enough for a large group of people. Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder, and drew his sword.

"Whoah, now. Don't be hasty." exclaimed Aspius taking his hand of the tall Nord's shoulder."Where is the Council meeting? I long to hear what all the captains have to say for themselves."

"The Council is currently gathering in the War Room, a small chamber to the left of the throne. I do not know why Lord Ulfric intends to host the meeting there. I hope to find out the reason for it ere we arrive."

The two then walked together towards the small room, both pondering as to why the room was the ideal location for a Council of all of his most trusted advisors and nobles. Soloman thought he had an idea why, but wasn't entirely sure if he was right. He elected to just wait and see what the King had to say.

Ralof greeted the pair as they arrived at the door."ah, you've made it! i assumed you two would bail on the Council and go talk about your Breton stuff. Come lads, while you can still get a good seat."

Seats? Since when did the war room have multiple chairs? Soloman was confused about what the captain just said."Ralof, you know as well as I do that the war room won't hold as many people that Ulfric has gathered."

"Don't question the king," replied Ralof,"There is more to him than one might expect."

"That may be," said the wizard Aspius,"But it is not logical to hold a council in these chambers."

The trio the walked into the room, noticing it was empty."Figures as much," stated Soloman,"The other guests must've noticed how foolish an idea it was to hold the Council in this location."

"What're you talking about? The Council is in here," said a deep male voice from the other side of the room.

Soloman was frightened. Did the shades of the ancient nord heroes walk amongst the living in the Palace of the Kings? Soloman drew his blade, a sword forged from the bones of mighty dragons from ages past. A chill went down the spine of the aged Breton as well, causing him to freeze in terror of the dead. Ralof was the only one in the group who was not frightened. He reluctantly drew his axe, however, because the dead had long haunted his nightmares as a boy.

"Sheathe your weapons. Do not be afraid, we are not your foes, Stormblade and company." the speaker then emerged from behind a tapestry on the wall, shocking the men, as they did not expect a man to be there. Soloman sheathed his sword, prompting Ralof to sheathe his war axe.

The man was no other than the leader of Skyrim, Ulfric kneeled before the king, and Soloman and Aspius followed. They chanted in union,"At your service," and then the old king told them to rise and the trio did.

The group passed through the tapestry , Soloman noticing it was one of a bear, the emblem of the Stormcloak regime. The group emerged in a large room, one that could easily hold a hundred fifty men. The room was laid out in a large, rounded table, with chairs for a hundred at it. The rest of the place was decorated with the banners of the nine holds of Skyrim, going from Haafingar, The Reach, Falkreath, and Hjaalmarch on the left. Whiterun, The Pale, The Rift, and Winterhold were on the right. In the middle of the two sides, the banner of Eastmarch hung, for it was the capital of Skyrim. Soloman was escorted by two soldiers towards his seat, noticing he was at the left of the king, while Galmar was at the right of Ulfric. Jarl Balgruuf the Greater sat beside the Dovahkiin, and Jarl Elisif the Fair sat beside Galmar. Three more jarls sat on Soloman's side. They were: jarl Thongvor Silver-Blood, Jarl Skald the Elder, and Jarl Dengeir of Stuhn. The remaing Jarls sat on Galmar's side, being: Jarl Mjoll the Lioness, Jarl Hanse, and Jarl Sorli the Builder. The remaing seats were filled in by members of the military such as Ysrald thrice Pierced, and various nobles or respected members of Skyrim, such as Ainethach. They all were curious about their summons, and very few already knew of the looming threat.

"Friends, we've all been gathered here today, for the discussion of the safety of our people." said Ulfric as he rose out of his seat."We have had peace for a long time, since we drove the legion out. But will that peace last? No, it will not. Many will try to take our lands, thinking we are too weak to defend ourselves. We shall soon become the greatest nation on the face of Nirn. War is on the horizon. We are against a threat that is looking to destroy every man, Talos, and the very world itself." At this many men and women alike gasped, for they could not believe something so evil could be allowed to remain in this beautiful world.

"What is this evil of which you speak, Ulfric? Have we come to the end?" said Balgruuf, with fear shining in his eyes. He did not know about the Thalmor plot, so he was terrified that another God had come to attack Skyrim, as Alduin did.

"The Thalmor," Those two words from Ulfric's mouth caused the room to grow silent, and great men cowered in fear. They had remembered the terror of the elves in the Great War long ago, and the horrors of the terrible conflict was rekindled in the minds of the survivors."We have not come to the end, Balgruuf, but the beginning. The beginning of a new Empire of Men!" with that the Council cheered, for Ulfric's voice had the power to give men both courage and dispair.

Galmar then spoke of his founding of the military college at Helgen, an institution where the sons of Skyrim could learn batlle strategies and tactics. He then asked Soloman if his adopted son would be enrolling, to which the Dovahkiin responded with a yes. For the young lad Alessan had turned fifteen a month prior, and was eligible to enlist with the military.

Ulfric then stated,"Skyrim won't back down to those damn elves! We shall have generals fit to take the fight all the way to Alinor, and burn the city to the ground! We have already intercepted a letter off of one of the bastards prompting a general of theirs, Tacitus, to attack the Fatherland." suddenly the various Jarls and Commanders began talking about ways in which they could defend the nation. Balgruuf questioned whether he should lead his men to Blackmoor, as Commander Caius proposed, or whether to fight in his city. Thongvor Silver-Blood knew with utter surety that any enemy that would dare attack Markarth would go away humbled, for one would do bwell not to make war on the City of Stone.

A tall man now stood up, his nimble form resembled one of an archer."What of the other nations? High Rock, Hammerfell, and Cyrodiil? Do the Thalmor wish to take them as well?"

Soloman now stood up, his muscled figure seemed like a giant compared to the nimble Imperial."Hammerfell is allied with us, for they too hate those Thalmor bastards! High Rock is largely neutral for the moment, as they are currently a vassal of the Empire. But do not fret, for I am to go on a mission of diplomacy to the land of the Bretons, to win over their alligience to the fate of men! Cyrodiil is too afraid to try to stand against the Aldmeri Dominion, so men will be led by us and Hammerfell in the coming war, for the Bretons and the Imperials alike do not wish to anger the Thalmor."

"That is where you are wrong," countered the Imperial. "Cyrodiil has made all of the necessesary arrangements to defend the motherland, for I am from the Imperial Province, and have been tasked with delivering a message to the Lord Ulfric. Cyrodiil has not been idle, as you would believe. We have built a line of forts along the border with the Dominion, and restored all of the forts along Lake Rumare in defense of the capitol. We have also built a naval base in Leyawiin that prohibits the passage of large ships along the Niben. Only barges can fit through, all other ships must unload at the docks. Further naval news is that our fleet at Anvil has been doubled. The Imperial Legion has had an increased presence in the country, mainly along the border. But recently, a fort was attacked in the night by elves, and every man was slain, except four. I was one of those, and I witnessed the Bosmer archers and assasins secretly slice our throats in the night after they silently ambushed our guards. The war has begun in Cyrodiil, and we only ask one thing: That Skyrim ally itself with us. For ages the armies of Skyrim have rode down from the north to aid their southern ally. Will you not remember those victories our nations have shared over the years?"

Ulfric's eyes grew curious as he studied the man was tall in stature, about six and a quarter feet. He had long black hair that spilled upon his shoulders, and a tiny mustache, as if he had forgotten to shave his upper lip. He was a slim build, but his muscles were toned, as if he had not been idle with his weapon."Who are you, lad, and why won't the Emperor speak to me himself?"

"Lord Ulfric, I am Tyranus Draconis, and I am a ranger of the Empire. The Emperor, Titus Mede II was killed a few years back aboard his ship near Solitude, as I'm sure you know."

"Aye. But he had heirs, am I right?"

"His heirs were assasinated at the same time. The Steward now rules Cyrodiil, and his name is Severio. He would like to arrange a meeting with you, but he has been tied down with the war. He has bidden me to present this token to you." The main then pulled out a large parcel and handed it to the king.

As Ulfric began to open it, a golden light shone across the room. A long katana was revealed fro the packaging, its blade was made of pure gold."Goldbrand," whispered Ulfric as he ran his hand along the blade. "Tell Severio I accept his sword, Skyrim will march South to the war!"


End file.
